


it's time to consider there are no winners

by justsleepwalkin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode s15e17 "Unity", Established Michael/Adam Milligan, Explicit Language, Hopeful Ending, In Medias Res, M/M, Michael Possessing Adam Milligan, POV Multiple, Season 15 AU, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsleepwalkin/pseuds/justsleepwalkin
Summary: “Do you not get it, Dean?” Lucifer lulls, eyes alight with too much grace and too much power and Dean feels sick. “I was only meant to be yourdistraction.”“No,” Dean whispers, shoving hard and backing away. “No, that’s a load of crap. You’d never be a part of Chuck’s game. You’re not his chess piece.” Dean paces in a circle, hands raised to clasp behind his neck as though it’s a lifeline and he wants toscream.
Relationships: Lucifer & Adam Milligan, Lucifer & Michael (Supernatural), Lucifer/Dean Winchester, Michael/Adam Milligan, The Empty | The Shadow (Supernatural) & Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	it's time to consider there are no winners

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote half of this after e17 aired. It was part of my NaNo-I’m-Writing-SPN-to-Hit-My-Word-Count. I’m not sure when the Canon Divergent originally happened \o_O/ sometime during early s15 though. 
> 
> I hesitated to finish this after e18 came out for several reasons like, y’know, anger, Cas, ect, ect, but after a few weeks picked back at it ‘cause it seemed like a waste of the 2k I'd already written. The plot resolution is sorta waved over but whatev.

> Oh, something I could never say  
>  Why you gotta make it feel this way by lying to my face?  
>  A suckapunch I can take  
>  I wasn't born yesterday  
>  A bloodsport but I'm a saint  
>  It's time to consider there are no winners  
>  I'm getting visions and you're not fitting in  
>  [♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_56gWXt9_XQ) SUCKAPUNCH by You Me At Six

-

“I've done everything you asked of me!”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Screw you,” Dean shouts. “I tried. I fucking tried to be _something_ for you which was inevitably _bullshit_ and I'm sure Sammy's gonna tell me I Told You So at some point but I _tried_. You're the one that gave up. You'd better fucking realize that, Lucifer.”

“There was nothing to ever try for.”

Dean feels his blood boil. His hands are fisted into Lucifer's shirt before he even realizes and some distant, swamped, part of his brain knows he only got this far because Lucifer _allowed_ it and how's that fair? Human versus archangel, Dean should've known they were always doomed to fail but some broken and twisted part of him laughably _prayed_ that, like everything in the brothers' lives, it wouldn't come crashing down.

God's destroyed the others worlds and Jack is a timebomb and Sam and Cas are trying to change Fate and Dean's a stupid human soldier that got caught up in the other side. 

“Do you not get it, Dean?” Lucifer lulls, eyes alight with too much grace and too much power and Dean feels sick. “I was only meant to be your _distraction_.”

“No,” Dean whispers, shoving hard and backing away. “No, that's a load of crap. You'd never be a part of Chuck's game. You're not his chess piece.” Dean paces in a circle, hands raised to clasp behind his neck as though it's a lifeline and he wants to _scream_. Jack is dying and Dean's fucked up and once again fell into line with God's plan even though he _begged_ to get out of it, just _once_. 

Lucifer was supposed to be the rebel, the _original_ rebel—the dark shadow to God, always fighting the script. Lucifer was someone Dean's hated since the start but they were supposed to be the _same_ and now Dean is furious and overwrought with emotion and he doesn't think he can _fix this_. 

(Why did Amara let this happen? Why did she go along with Chuck? She must have found out Dean's plan, and _Lucifer_ had sung to Dean that it was a terrible way to deal with people he was supposed to be close to and _really_ Dean should have heard the bitterness in his voice but he was just so desperate to get to their ending and _move on_ for once in his damn life. 

Lucifer practically told Dean he was waiting to betray him before Dean did it to Lucifer.

 _Fuck_.)

“Your son's dying,” Dean sneers, trying for something, _anything_ other than his own disastrous emotions. “Again. Which is like, I don't know, the third time, and the second time where it's _your_ Father's fault. You really want that?”

“I don't care,” Lucifer answers coolly. 

“Don't you?” Dean mocks, and this feels good. He's in pain so he'll make Lucifer feel something similar, make him _hurt_. They're polarized even if Lucifer wants to ignore that fact and once again think he's above everything even if he's just a failed puppet. “Kelly said you were thrilled at Jack being the first time you ever created anything.”

And it's the _first time_ Dean sees emotion cross Lucifer's face and he wants to dig that further in. Dean's nerves are on fire and he's mourning Jack for the umpteenth time, mourning himself for the mistakes he was manipulated to make, and maybe he just doesn't want to take responsibility for his actions. 

No one else is going to let him though, anyway. Sam and Cas had pulled Jack away from Dean the moment he'd tried to turn around to him and really that's fair—Dean had denounced the kid and he might as well have slapped Lucifer in the face in the process. 

It's a wonder Lucifer is even still standing here after Dean's pushed away everyone else. 

“This is the last world,” Dean whispers, “you really want him to use Jack to detonate it?”

Lucifer's arms tighten where they're folded across his chest. His fingers claw into skin. “I don't know why you think I have any power against my Father.”

“But if you and Michael—”

“ _Don't_ mention my brother,” Lucifer snarls, a crackle of grace in the air with the words. 

Dean doesn't shrink back, having expected the reaction. 

They'd found Lucifer after Michael and Adam. It wasn't _good_. It never was any time they realized that Lucifer had once again circumvented Death and the Empty. Cas was enraged to know someone _else_ had awoken in that realm and the jeering that fell from Lucifer's tongue was enough to burn holes in the bunker's warding. 

Lucifer had said he was to help with Jack's “quest” and Jack was too tired to sort out whether or not it was a lie. Billie when she saw him just scoffed but verified the claim, flippant and regarding Lucifer as nothing more than a wayward child.

Now Death wanted to, apparently, replace Chuck as a new god and didn't it make a whole lot of fucking sense that Lucifer would go along with that? Except then he had gone and claimed it was really _God_ he was working for and Dean just can't keep up with primordial entities anymore. 

What did it matter, anyway, who's puppet Lucifer was made into? Chuck, Death, they're both a betrayal to the Winchesters. 

“I didn't listen to my brother and look where it got me,” Dean growls. “You both _need_ this rock spinning and you both have beef with your Dad. So maybe use that, dammit!”

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Lucifer says, stepping forward and pacing a ring around him. “I don't care what happens to 'this rock.' I shouldn't even be alive. My life's on loan. I want the ending. I don't care if it's my Father's, I don't care if it's Death's.” He pauses at Dean's side, a hair's breadth away. “I just want it all to stop.”

“Why?” Dean asks, shifting to stare at him and just barely catching Lucifer's surprise. “When did you give up?” Lucifer falters and Dean sees some of the devil that he'd actually started to let himself _care_ about. 

“You think there's reason to 'fight' because that's all you've ever done. The loyal little soldier.” Lucifer scoffs, looking away. “Just like Michael,” he spits. “Isn't that poetic.”

“Fuck you. That doesn't answer my question.”

“And I don't _have_ to answer your question.”

“Why not? We only got like, what, maybe an hour left? _Come on_ , Lucifer, let's hear it. You stopped having a plan years ago, so what, you just let yourself be _manipulated_ by everyone around you?” Dean's words choke off when there's a hand to his neck. 

“And by you?” Lucifer whispers roughly. 

“I didn't manipulate you,” Dean rasps. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Lucifer's voice quavers, “you mean your shows of friendship were _just 'cause_.” He laughs and Dean feels his ears bleed, and only after does he hear the high-pitched whistle surrounding him and the sparks of the lights, Emergency Power taking over. 

Dean doesn't feel his life hang in the balance. He doesn't feel the world. He just feels whatever _this_ was between them and he stares at Lucifer and answers with a simple, “Yes.”

Lucifer's grip tightens and Dean draws in a hiss of pain, but he maintains eye contact even as Lucifer seethes, “ _Liar_.” 

And Dean wonders what God told him. What Death told him. He wants to know who weaseled into Lucifer's head to make him think _everything_ Dean had been doing was just a _lie_.

“You're the King of Lies,” Dean says, “you'd know I'm not lying. I haven't once manipulated you, asshole. You were my fucking friend and Sam told me it'd probably end up this way but I went and fell in love with you anyway.” 

The grip at his neck stutters.

Whoops.

Dean hadn't meant to say that last part. 

“I don't trust you,” Lucifer says and fuck, his voice is shaking. 

“I got that,” Dean whispers. “I mean I guess I wouldn't trust me either considering I just pushed everyone else away and I let Billie make Jack into a bomb in the first place. I—” Pulled a gun on Sam. Nearly _shot_ Sam. Lost Amara. Lost everything and everyone, Lucifer included.

Lucifer jerks his hand away quickly as though burned, looking at Dean with some warped mixed of hatred and sympathy and disgust and maybe something else there that Dean's afraid of. 

“Been awhile since I read anyone's thoughts on accident,” Lucifer mutters in explanation.

Oh. “Oh.” His shoulders slump. “What, you want me to be sorry?” And slump further. “Think I'm already at the limit of how much I can hate myself.”

“You are an expert at it.”

“I adapted my methods learning from you.”

Lucifer stiffens. 

“Get out of here,” Dean mumbles, sliding down to the floor, legs sprawled out in front of him, “go to Jack. They'll let you near him without me around.” 

Lucifer considers him, and then very, very slowly he leaves Dean. 

Dean's breathing hitches once Lucifer is out of sight. In the red of the Emergency Lighting, silence fills in, and then tendrils of black ink drag out from the wall on either side of him and before his feet forms into an iteration of Meg, only Dean is sure it isn't really her. Mostly because he thinks he'd like to see her, and he knows he doesn't get the things he wants right now. 

“You with God?” Dean asks.

They go rigid, angry. “ _No_ ,” they spit.

“Death?” he tries.

They only get angrier. “Even worse.” 

“Okay. That's all I got.”

“I'm the Empty,” they scowl.

“Oh. I didn't think you could get here without being summoned?”

“I followed a path,” they explain, turning to look over their shoulder in the direction Lucifer walked off. 

Dean's pulse races. He leans forward. “He was working for _you_? But he said—”

“That he was the distraction? For you? At God's behest?” they answer. They grin. It almost looks like Meg. “He was my double-agent. Find out what everyone's grand plans were, how they intended to break my oaths, and stop them. But it went south.” They sigh.

“Does he know you're here? That you used him to ferry your way in?”

“No. Otherwise he'd be quite mad, I'm sure. But I've decided to take a bargaining chip.” They smile and bend down before Dean. “I'm going to take you.”

“I'm not a bargaining chip,” Dean states. “He doesn't care about me.”

“ _Oh_ , you silly human. I've been _listening_ through him. He'd do _anything_ for you.” They reach up a hand and Dean shouts when black oozes out from around the wall and envelopes him. There's fire at his back and he thinks his bones are breaking and his shout turns into a yell of pain before he's sucked into the emptiness. 

They smile, then turn, skittering through the bunker halls before they find the seizing Nephilim and what's left of his family. They grin when Castiel and Lucifer look at them with matching horror. “Boys,” they greet, and Sam just looks confused. They laugh and face Lucifer. “We have a deal, remember? That's still in play even if you've gone soft and the world is breaking.”

“It doesn't matter now,” Lucifer growls.

“Doesn't it?” they sing. “I have your Winchester.”

Lucifer's expression goes blank.

And the boy thought his devil didn't care for him. _Adorable_.

“You want him back? You honor our oath.” They wave a hand. “ _Toodles_.” And vanish.

“Lucifer?” Castiel demands. 

“I...” Lucifer trails off, still staring at the space they had been occupying. He'd only left Dean barely two minutes ago! They can't have... it's a trick! A lie!

_“You're the King of Lies, you'd know I'm not lying.”_

“Lucifer!” Castiel says again, louder. 

Lucifer shouldn't have left him. Now Jack's dying and Dean is _gone_ and how is he supposed to honor his oath?! There's nothing they can do! 

… Michael. 

He bows his head, expression shadowed. Static crackles along his arms, energy jumping to his wings. “Look after my son,” he says lowly. “I need to find my brother.”

“ _What_?” Sam says, attention dragging away from where he's cradling Jack against him, Jack's skin collapsing and burning and healing and compressing again and again. “You can't just—and what about _Dean_?”

Lucifer's head swivels to him like a snake. He says through grit teeth, “I'll _figure it out_ ,” and with his departure the backup power, too, cuts out, leaving the remaining residents in darkness.

* * *

“Can you just _stop_ already? I'm so tired of all the voices you and your lot churn up. Just... just be _quiet_ ,” the Empty tells Dean, leaning over, almost out of their throne, staring down at where Dean's sprawled out over their eternal void.

“Excuse me for not enjoying being _yanked_ outta my plane!” Dean snaps. “Didn't think humans were exactly supposed to be part of the Empty!” 

“They're not supposed to be part of Purgatory either but you went on a mad trip through there, too, breaking all sorts of things, mm?”

“Cracking skulls if that's what you mean.”

“Close enough.” They shrug and sprawl backwards, spreading their palms. “If you keep making a fuss I'll wake someone neither of us want to deal with, but you even less so.”

Dean sucks in a breath. He's got a whole lot of enemies kicking around in this realm. 

“You know how hard that is to narrow down?” he says, so quiet he thinks that it might be enough to keep them appeased. 

“Let's say tall, brooding, likes his _finery_ ,” they drawl, then they smirk, cocking their head and curling their hands around the armrests. “Has that stank of _apocalypse_.”

Dean's dread is enough to drown him all over again. “I,” his voice fails him. He has to fight for his words but his eyes burn from a prick of tears, “no,” he gets out, and, “I'll behave, okay? Just—just please, not _him_.”

They roll their eyes, head dropping back, “Relax,” they decide on. “I can still hear your despairing thoughts. Almost louder than your growling voice. Just try not to wiggle around so much, you won't be here long.”

Dean swallows tightly. “I don't know what you think will change.” 

“Everything,” they sing, clicking their tongue. 

“Lucifer isn't—” Dean starts, frustrated. 

“I already told you,” they interrupt. “And I'm not in the dirty business of falsehoods like some people. He'll do what we agreed on and you'll go back, end of story.”

Dean hesitates, “What if he can't win?” he asks. 

“Oh, don't _worry_.” Their lips twist in almost a _smile_ and it catches Dean off guard. They say, “He'll 'figure it out,'” softly and there's a cant of their head, a flick of their hand, and Dean thinks it's a joke that he's only just missing.

* * *

Michael's location is, frankly, _predictable_.

O Glorious Prince, we look to you, won't you defend us from the devil? 

Holed up in the darkened church is hysterical for Michael, but even running on stealth as he is, Lucifer can find him with ease, magnets that they are, except instead of naturally attracting to one another constantly, they repel. 

It still means he knows where Michael is. 

He'd known his brother was free without the Winchesters saying anything but Michael hadn't been involved with any of the players at the board so Lucifer had intended to ignore him and let the end come to them without any resolution. 

Another choice torn from Lucifer's hands. 

He stands between the pews, head ducked, his power tamed and kept as a chilled spark. Michael's spine is straight, his back to him, but without a doubt he knows Lucifer is there. 

“I need your help,” Lucifer whispers. 

Michael laughs, and it sounds wrong. It sounds human, and Lucifer has to wonder where his host is bundled in all that grace, the heaviness of archangel. A soul kept above the surface instead of stifled. 

Lucifer thinks it's Adam that looks over their shoulder at him, and Lucifer feels frozen in place when they laugh again. 

“You need _my_ help? Oh, Lucifer, that's precious,” and _that_ is Michael, the sneered words, “Why do you think I would ever help you?”

“Adam,” Lucifer answers simply.

Michael goes rigid, his expression cold. “I'm sorry?” he demands, turning to face Lucifer completely. 

Lucifer forces himself to meet his gaze. “You love Adam,” Lucifer continues. “A human.”

Lucifer couldn't afford Michael to lose his concealment; he wasn't trying to set his brother off, but Michael is brimming with power in an instant, barely controlled. 

“You _dare_ threaten—”

“No,” Lucifer interrupts, quick, “that isn't what I mean. You... I...” He breathes and shudders. “I understand.”

Confusion blips through Michael, and maybe it's Adam there, too, watching, trying to both equally pick apart Lucifer. He hates being exposed like this, bad enough that Dean poked holes in his armor when Lucifer was trying so hard to keep it in tact. The Empty dealt the final blow though and Lucifer is just bleeding for Michael to see, enough that Michael could strike him down and there would be no more loopholes for Lucifer's life. 

“The Empty took Dean,” Lucifer says. “They won't give him back until I solve the issue with our Father and Death. Michael please, I, I _understand you_.” The 'please' was hard enough. Saying more on his feelings was impossible, but recognition crosses Michael's eyes and his inherent need to fight eases. 

“I never would have guessed,” Michael murmurs.

“Yeah, well,” Lucifer glances away. Neither would he. “You're the only option I have left.”

Michael draws in a deep breath and his posture is a little less stone, loose and open to mirror Lucifer's weakness, and that _helps_ , Lucifer realizes. That settles Lucifer's unsteady breathing, stabilizing his nerves. 

Adam says, “I kind of want the planet to continue.” His grin is fast, fleeting. He doesn't quite meet Lucifer's eyes and if this was the Cage Lucifer would have mocked him for it, but Lucifer's too tired now and Michael's host shouldn't be offering him any _kindness_ but here they are. 

Adam hums, tilting his head to an empty space, gaze considering, and Lucifer terrifyingly understands that he's communicating with Michael. He focuses back on Lucifer. “You made a deal with the—Empty?” he licks his lips around the word, not knowing the context that belongs with it, not entirely, anyway. 

“Yes,” Lucifer allows.

“Why?”

The innocent question makes Lucifer bristle, the ice around his power cracking and nearly breaking free. He squashes it before it can reignite. Michael isn't the only one who has to operate under the radar now. 

“Michael hasn't had the _pleasure_ of being dead,” Lucifer hisses. “Of the competitors in the game... the Empty is the one I don't want to... to screw with. And you see it's not so much 'agreement' to this issue they have with 'oaths,' as it is...”

He sighs, reaching up a hand and kneading fingers into his closed eyes, forcing small explosions of light under his eyelids. He continues, distracted, “The Empty makes you do something and you do it regardless of your own personal feelings. Funny though, they're kind of like Daddy Dearest, in that they are fine with using leverage.” He drops his hand and blinks away the white noise of light. He almost expects the Empty to lash ribbons of ink from the walls and bind him for daring to associate them with God. 

Adam nods, and his lips are moving but Lucifer can't hear the words. He stops, pauses, then speaks out to Lucifer, too _knowing_ , and Lucifer hates him for it, because _Michael_ wouldn't understand this part, but a human, a _human_ would, “'Personal feelings' weren't part of the plan, were they?” 

“ _No_.”

“Yeah,” Adam says lightly, “I get that. Makes you and Michael kind of the same in that regard.” And then Adam's eyes are full of delight and he's dancing a few steps to the side, reaching out to air and laughing freely before his stance readjusts and Adam blurs away into Michael, but always there, buzzing under the surface.

“So,” Michael says, voice firm, but Adam's amusement lingers, “we need a plan.”

* * *

With the brothers working together it's easy to “honor the oath.” Lucifer still expects betrayal, but when the Empty spits the rumpled Winchester back into the bunker he counts what few blessings he has and tries for once to have a sliver of optimism.

“ _Dean_ ,” he whispers, gathering the Winchester off the floor and checking him over for any injuries even as Dean keeps mumbling that he's fine, though he doesn't pull out of Lucifer's touch. 

Dean looks at him, mystified. “You really...” He shakes his head. “They said you would, but I didn't believe them.”

“What? What did they say?”

Dean chokes back the words. 

“Dean.”

“I didn't think you cared.”

Lucifer reels like he's been hit before wrapping his arms tight around Dean and holding him. “I didn't think _you_ did,” Lucifer reasons. 

“Idiot,” Dean mumbles. 

“Yes,” Lucifer agrees. 

“How did you...?”

“Michael,” Lucifer answers with a chuckle. “Last plan you had, and it worked out.” 

“And you didn't think he'd help you.”

“He only helped me because of _you_.” 

“Oh?” 

“Because I...” Lucifer tries, but trails off. He pulls away and reaches up to cup his hands around Dean's face. “ _You_ weren't part of any lie,” he says. 

Dean watches him, heart racing. “W-What are you...” He gives his head another shake with a sigh. “I thought you... _before_ you flipped your lid and started throwing stones, I thought you felt the same. Why was it all an act?”

“It wasn't an _act_ ,” Lucifer says, voice rough. “It's just... I went along with it because... it was _nice_. I just assumed it would end, and I was going to be the one that ended it.” Because he's sick of losing things and being taken away from him, because everything nice is always, _always_ ripped away. This time he wanted it to be _his_ choice. 

“Fuck, Lucifer.” Dean draws out of his hands, trembling. “Look, God's no longer a problem. Amara is... sidled with Jack I guess, who's now... ascended or whatever. I think you're okay now.”

“I'm still bound by the Empty,” Lucifer says. “They have a link in through me.”

“Well, you did the one thing they seem to care about, so maybe they'll leave you alone.”

“Maybe...” Lucifer mutters.

“Just like... don't go making anymore deals,” Dean says. “You've been one of us for a bit now—which is fitting that you went off the rails there—but because you're one of us _deals are a bad thing_. Got it?”

“Dean...”

“No, don't 'Dean' me.”

“Had I _not_ made that deal I wouldn't _be_ here.”

Dean makes a face. “Okay, fine. But that was also before we begrudgingly put up with you. So that's the only pre-Winchester deal you're ever gonna get. No more.” 

“Fine,” Lucifer says, “no more deals.” As though saying 'no' to the Empty was an option for Lucifer. He doesn't tell Dean that. 

“You think they're... able to go back to sleep now?” 

“Perhaps.” Lucifer frowns, looking Dean over again. “Did they do something to you?”

“No. Not—really. They just... I guess Michael is there. The, uh, other Michael.” Dean winces, because bringing up the archangel you rode alongside to kill the one you're currently in love with probably isn't the best plan. “They were gonna wake him up if I didn't fall in line.” 

Lucifer's expression turns stormy. “I take it you and he didn't part on good terms, then?”

“What did I just say about how making deals never goes well for us, huh?” Dean tries to sound sarcastic, but the words just tumble messily out of him. It was only three weeks under Apocalypse Michael's thumb but Dean was suffocating the whole while. “They woke up you to do their work, and you got distracted. What if they wake him up and he _also_ gets distracted by me, but y'know, it goes the way I had expected from you.”

“A whole lot of stabbing?” Lucifer offers. 

Dean winces and Lucifer sighs, wrapping an arm over his shoulders and tugging. “Come on,” he says, guiding Dean out of the room. The distant chatter of Sam and Castiel follows them through the corridors as he takes Dean to the safety of his room. He opens Dean's door and then steps back into the hall.

Dean stares at him. “The fuck do you think you're going?” he says. 

Lucifer sways. “I...”

Dean jabs a finger at him. “I'm exhausted and I could sleep for a week and you're going to _stay with me_ because I don't trust for a second that you're not gonna wing off and lock yourself up where I'll never find you again. And then I'm gonna wake up and we're going to _talk_ about dumb things like _adults_.”

“Dean, I don't think...”

Dean shifts tactics. “I ain't gonna sleep because I'm going to keep expecting the Empty to pop out saying _just kiddin'_ and gobble me back up,” he says, tone frighteningly serious. “Take the chair if you don't wanna lay next to me but just—” 

He breaks off, breaths shallow. His hand finally drops. He feels _lost_ in a world that should allow him _freedom_ , no longer trapped in the ditch that is God's story and yet he's _still_ looking over his shoulder like he's constantly being hunted. “Don't leave me alone,” he finishes, barely even a whisper. 

“You can't forgive me so easily,” Lucifer says.

“I haven't,” Dean answers, looking up at him. “But that's tomorrow's problem.”

“... Or the 'week' after you've woken up?”

Dean chances a grin. “Exactly.” 

Lucifer sighs, long, drawn out, filled with the universe and lifetimes and everything in between. He steps into the room after Dean, and Dean just makes the universal gesture for _I'm watching you_ before grabbing a change of clothes and heading for the bathroom. 

He honestly expects Lucifer to be gone when he gets back and he's bracing himself for the ringing silence, so he almost trips over his own feet when he walks back in and Lucifer is laying along the bed, sheets strewn over him, arms folded behind his head, his gaze staring transfixed at the ceiling. 

“I can hear your abandonment issues from here,” Lucifer drawls. 

“Takes one to know one,” Dean snipes back. He closes the door behind him and throws back a corner of the sheets and slides into bed, flailing for the light. 

“Should I prepare an SOS response if you don't wake after a week?” Lucifer says into the darkness.

“Bite me,” Dean gripes.

“Only if you ask more nicely,” Lucifer lulls. 

Dean considers that, but he really _is_ tired, and he wants to _enjoy_ this, after they've talked and fumbled through important things like _forgiveness_ and ugh, Dean hates decisions like this. But recklessness had a place in Chuck's world and dammit, this is _Jack's_ now and it's high time Dean stops living in the present only and never considering a future. He's not a writer's favorite character anymore. He doesn't have God-backed endurance, nearly immortal until they pissed Chuck off to the literal-snapping point. 

“When I wake up,” Dean replies. He allows himself the barest of comfort, sidling into Lucifer, and after a heartbeat of a moment, an arm settles over Dean. 

When he wakes up, he'll consider his future.

**Author's Note:**

> There’s words here. Winning, right? Actually though that turned out better than I hoped for lmfao. And now it's 5am and predictably passed my bedtime, Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, I gotta be at work in 9 hours ;) 
> 
> (Billie went with Lucifer’s claim because to her it meant Lucifer was on her side, not God’s, not expecting the third party to be involved.)


End file.
